


Thank You, Universe

by everything_isconnected



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Big Bang, Electrocution, F/F, Gen, Happy Ending, Human Experimentation, M/M, Multi, a little fluff, alllll the typos, but not as bad as it sounds, general trash, i cant write, im a beginner, like loads sorry, slow burn??? i think???, why would you read this tho?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 07:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everything_isconnected/pseuds/everything_isconnected
Summary: ‘Look, Amanda, you’re about to wake up. When you do, remember - do whatever they tell you. Don’t fight back, don’t protest, don’t try to stop them. Just do it. I’ll find you. I promise’‘I- what? Dirk, what’s going on?’‘I can’t explain it all now. Just listen to me.’ His vision was fading.‘Dirk?’‘Yes?’‘I’m scared.’‘Don’t worry.’ Dirk smiled. ‘I am too.’-------The soulmate AU that isn't an AU.  Set six months after the end of s2, Dirk's in Blackwing, where an experiment about psychic connections goes horribly wrong and his world is now in grayscale. Suddenly, a familiar face pops up.In another part of America, Todd and Farah are searching desperately for any trace of their missing friends. The only thing they have is a Buzzfeed article.Main pairing is Brotzly, with some Faranda on the side. Human experimentation and electrocution, (I'm not totally sure of everything to trigger tag, but I think that's it.)





	Thank You, Universe

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to both @rarecoinkydinks on tumblr for their INCREDIBLE ART, and also my beta @dirkgentlyheadconons, their additions were so unbelievably helpful!

Dirk Gently had been running for sixteen years, three months and two days. 

 

In that time, he'd gone to university in England, picked a new name, met a cat that was actually a shark and a dog that was actually a girl, and become best friends with a very angry, short man whom he cared for immensely. 

 

And then it all went wrong. 

 

Because, according to the CIA, Dirk hadn't suffered enough in the seven years, five months and two weeks that he'd existed as a human guinea pig; never utterly distraught, but never totally happy. It was a period of life he tended to think of as a time of mere existence, in which he never quite knew what he was missing out on.

 

According to the CIA, any idiot with a gun and a pretty face was fit to be head of a $80 million operation.Dirk often smiled to himself, sitting alone - in his room, when he couldn't sleep and missed Todd awfully, that really - he was probably more qualified to run this thing than any Blackwing knucklehead.

 

And honestly, it didn't help that the Colonel was missing (apparently). The last bit of home, familiarity, kindness that Dirk had known in this world was now gone, to be replaced by cold faceless indifference. 

 

Dirk had been in Blackwing for six months. Probably. The depression he'd let himself almost slip into had caused the beginning of his time there to blur. The meaningless cycle of sleep and consciousness had resulted in a distinct lack of knowing what was going on, which was a problem, because Dirk had changed since coming here - The delight of being oblivious about everything had faded, to be replaced by a cold, hard obsession with knowing the truth.

 

After all, that's what he had become accustomed to. None of the scientists here held the same excitement when they met a problem that couldn’t be solved. Had it been Dirk’s job to experiment on innocent people (not that he ever would), the second he met a problem, he’d stop. How exciting! The universe had shown him something new, and if he didn’t have the answer, so what?

 

They were relentless. 

 

The scientists didn’t hold the same belief, and so, having been surrounded by this for months, Dirk became a shell of himself. Reclusive, compliant, tired. He was motivated by one thing - the thought that Todd was definitely out there somewhere, and that they’d see each other soon.

 

Dirk’s musings were interrupted by harsh, white light.

‘Project Icarus? If you’ll come with me.’

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Todd hadn’t had a great life before the man with a yellow jacket and a British accent climbed through his apartment window. Yeah, most of what followed had been terrifying and death-y, but hey, it was fun, and Todd had met some amazing people along the way.

 

The one problem Todd had was the CIA. If you can picture the scene: the end of the first ever investigation carried out by the Holistic Detective Agency. Everyone happy, Farah super rich - it seemed like nothing could ever go wrong. 

 

‘Todd?’ Farah hadn’t slept for two days; she’d barely shut her eyes since they’d discovered Dirk was missing.

 

‘Yeah?’ Todd sat hunched over a computer. For six months now, every day had been spent searching the darkest corners of the internet for a shred of information as to Dirk’s whereabouts. Despite trawling through thousands of articles, the most promising lead was a tumblr thread titled ‘blackwing’. It turned out to be a brand of pencil the art community was raving over.

 

‘I- I don’t know if this is anything, but I think you might wanna look at this.’

 

Todd rose from the musty office chair and turned to Farah’s corner of their cramped room. He groaned.

 

‘Farah, I know you haven’t slept in a while, but seriously. Buzzfeed?’

 

‘No, Todd! Look!’ Farah’s raised voice drilled into his ears - he couldn’t remember the last time she’d shouted.

 

Todd sighed. ‘Fine.’

 

‘Look, I’m gonna try and get some sleep. See you in a while. Just…. Read it, ok?’

 

As Farah headed off to her room, Todd turned his attention to the article. 

 

‘The Internet Is Raving About This Punk Couple Who Keep Punching Nazis’

 

Todd had no idea what that had to with Dirk. Although…

 

It was just a throwaway comment his sister had made. It wasn’t- It wasn’t anything. Just him reading into everything. Still...

 

A tiny part of his brain pinged.

 

_ ‘That’s so punk, dude!’ _

 

Todd hadn’t spoken to her for… almost six months now. 

 

He felt a pang go through his chest. Six months since he’d last spoken to his sister. Six months since she’d said all those things… all those things that he told himself were true every single night, when he lay, contemplating how he’d fucked everything up.

 

Todd jumped as a car beeped outside. He turned his attention back to the article. 

 

‘Images have cropped up all over the internet of two civilians in leather jackets and ripped jeans seemingly making their way through America’

 

Todd didn’t know what was particularly noteworthy about that.

 

‘That in itself isn’t particularly interesting, but their past-time makes this couple my idols. They’ve been travelling all around America, making their way to white supremacist parades and PUNCHING NAZIS IN THE FACE. The internet favours one video that’s been shared almost one million times on various social media sites, which shows the girl yelling ‘Dude! Shut the fuck up!’ in a man’s face before punching him, whilst her male counterpart looks on and finally takes his baseball bat to the man’s stomach. (link at the bottom of the article)

 

Todd was… excited? He hadn’t felt this way in months. In fact, the last time he’d been this happy was when he’d been wedged into that booth next to Dirk, before everything went to shit. He scrolled to the bottom of the page, past tweets from thousands of people preaching ‘all lives matter! violence is never the right option :(.’  

 

Man, Amanda would have hated that. On the upside, there were also positive messages from all around the globe:‘These two are the ultimate chaotic good’ 

 

Finally, he got to the bottom. There was a link to a video posted on youtube titled ‘Badass Couple Beat Up Nazi’ He clicked it. His heart was pounding. Had they found something?

 

_ Video Not Available :/ _

 

Oh. 

 

It was like waking up from a trance. The excitement he’d felt mere moments ago was replaced with a drop to the stomach.

 

What was the point? It wasn’t as if he was ever actually going to find Dirk. He couldn’t bring himself to give up, but after months of searching, the closest link he had to anything was a buzzfeed article littered with spelling errors and emojis.  

 

Before Todd knew it, his eyelids felt heavy and he fell into a deep sleep.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Amanda hadn’t exactly planned to become a minor internet phenomenon, but hey. 

 

Shit happens.

 

A quick update - she and Vogel had been on the run since the day that everything happened. For the last few months, they’d been travelling round America - hitchhiking, buses, one particularly memorable moment involving  a moving train. They hadn’t really been doing  much, but then Vogel discovered that Nazis were a thing, and decided to make it his solemn mission to punch as many as they could before the CIA found out. 

 

Not that this was a  _ bad  _ thing.

 

In her short time with the Rowdy 3, she’d come to realise that they completed each other. Not (only) in the cheesy movie cliche way. They were linked. She didn’t know how, but she knew through the shivers that would suddenly wrack   Vogel’s skinny frame, or the times  he’d stop in the middle of a sentence and just… stare into the distance for a bit.

 

So whilst Vogel insisted he was fine, that his friends were fine, that everything was going to be fine, Amanda knew it wasn’t true. Maybe Vogel thought they were going around punching Nazis, but every now and then, in the middle of the night, she’d slip off to the local library and research whatever she could. Nothing had really come up, but every now and then she thought she had something (it turned out to be a brand of pencils, but still). Amanda believed with all her heart that she was going to find and reunite the Rowdy 3, and so she kept searching, passing off her yawns as adrenaline crashes and sudden constant need for coffee as a strange new addiction.

 

She settled into this new life with ease - luckily, as it seemed it was going to be that way for a long time.

 

Until, that is, a crappy morning in June.

 

She awoke that morning as she did any other. Vogel was already up - he was definitely a morning person, which had evidently been a pain when the others had been with him; rising before noon being something of an achievement for the rest of the Rowdies

 

‘Get up! Jesus! We’ve got places to be!’

 

‘What are you talking about, dude? I thought we agreed we were gonna hide out for a bit?’

 

‘Oh my god, just get up! Look at this shit!’

 

Amanda caught the cracked iPad (like she did most mornings when Vogel had made a new discovery about the world). As she slowly began to wake up, her eyes focused on the words displayed on the bright screen.

 

‘Holy shit.’

 

‘Yeah, I know! Can we go now? Please?’

 

‘Yeah, obviously! We gotta be careful though, this could get violent.’

 

‘I don’t care! This is the best thing that’s ever happened!’

 

‘A huge white supremacy gathering in Texas is the best thing that’s ever happened to you? Sort your priorities  _ out _ , dude.’

 

Amanda rolled out of bed. They were… probably 40 minutes away from this rally. They could be back in time for her to head to the library for a bit.

 

She pulled on her sneakers, ‘Weird place for a meeting though. Some random field.’ 

 

‘Who cares? More space, less people to film us.’ Vogel’s eyes had an insane light to them.

 

‘I guess’. She felt almost uneasy. It was probably nothing, but the voice in the back of her head just whispered ‘ _ dangerous _ ’.

 

Amanda had never been very good at following instructions.

 

‘We can get the bus from… here?’ She stabbed at the map with her finger.

 

‘Sure! Whatever! I don’t care! Let’s just GO already!’

 

After a cup of coffee (for Amanda) and a bowl of lucky charms (Vogel), the pair set out. They’d planned their route, and decided the way forward was to catch the train until they reached the nearest city, then walk from there.

 

Amanda was wearing her ‘gay feminist bitch’ t-shirt, as an extra touch. Everything was fine until they got off the train. A familiar burning sensation ran down her back .She steadied herself.  _ Three breaths in, two out. _ She’d forgotten her meds the day she took off with the Rowdies.

 

Vogel was talking about how someday he’d like to go to DC, just to see what it was like.

 

_ Maybe, _ she thought,  _ this time it’ll be ok. Don’t bother Vogel. It doesn’t feel that bad. _

 

‘And then, maybe-’ Vogel stopped. 

 

Amanda stared intently at her hands. Waiting.

 

‘You ok? Amanda?’

 

‘Yeah, fine. I swear.’  _ Any second now _ .

 

Out of the blue, Vogel staggered and dropped. . Amanda felt a strange sensation travelling down her spine before her legs gave out, and she hit the ground.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dirk followed the scientist out of his room (cell) to a much larger, brighter room in the middle of the facility.  They passed a  number of machines on the  way; and each brought back painful memories of a particular experiment - a sharp zap, an injection, or mysterious scan. .

 

He was ushered to the chair in the middle of the room. There were a few scientists, nothing out of the ordinary, but Dirk wondered how many people were observing  from cameras and behind one-way mirrors. It made him uneasy, but this too wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. He was used to being watched, his every move analyzed. It wasn’t easy, but Dirk tried to put it out of his mind and focus on the large object that was being placed in front of him now that he’d sat down. It seemed familiar.

 

The case! The first case he’d ever solved. The one with the cat that was actually a shark and the dog that was actually a girl. It seemed like years ago. It felt like he hadn’t spoken to Todd, or Amanda, or Farah in ages. In fact….

 

Dirk stopped himself from falling down the rabbit hole again.  _ Focus on the now. _

 

‘Project Icarus? If you could pay attention, please.’

 

‘I- Sorry.’ Dirk bit his tongue.  _ That’s not my name! _ , he wanted to scream. But he didn’t. That phrase was usually accompanied by a punishment of some sort. Usually of the electric variety.

 

‘What’s this?’

 

‘Well, it’s... complicated. You see, in the 1800s, a man called Zacha-’

 

‘Just answer the question, please.’ The scientists sounded exasperated. 

 

‘A soul swapping machine. Slash time travelling machine. Slash unlimited energy device.’

 

‘Thank you. Do you know what else it can be used for?’

 

‘I- No. I didn’t think-’

 

‘We don’t know either, but according to the cult’s records, it can be used for finding psychic links. Soulmates, if you will.’

 

‘Right. What- What does that have to do with me?’

 

‘Well, as our go-to psychic-’

 

‘I’m  _ not  _ psyc-’ It was a mistake. A sharp shock stung him in the back of the neck, but Dirk merely clenched his fist and winced slightly. He’d learned not to react.

 

‘Thank you.’ The scientist’s voice was impassive. He couldn’t even see her, but he could tell that she didn’t care that it was the tenth time Dirk had been electrocuted this week. ‘As I was saying, as our go-to  _ psychic _ , we thought we’d test it out on you. If you’ll roll up your sleeve, please.’

 

Dirk didn’t really have a choice. With a sense of resignation, he rolled up the sleeve of the oversized jumper he was wearing. It was grey and  _ dull _ . Dirk didn’t know what had happened to his jacket. Or his t shirt. They’d probably been burnt along with his casebook. He’d watched that happen, screaming at them to _ stop it, that was his, they couldn’t just-.  _ That was a painful afternoon; a thorough reintroduction to the wonders of electroshock therapy. ZAP. ZAP. ZAP. Over and over and  _ over _ . 

 

He shook himself and focused on the electrodes being attached to his arm. They weren’t anything new, but he was still apprehensive.. A new experiment. _ Lucky me _ , he thought, _ guinea pig once again _ . 

 

The scientist walked over to a huge monitor that was plugged into the wall. She flicked a switch. Dirk’s world went black.

 

He awoke instantly. At least, that’s what it felt like. He was standing in a black box. It was bright, but he couldn’t see a light source anywhere. Actually, upon further observation, it wasn’t a box. There was no discernible end. It seemed to stretch out into eternity, in all directions.

 

He could hear a scream in the distance. More of an echo really but still. It sounded familiar. Was that- No. That was impossible.

 

It had to be wishful thinking- but for a moment he thought he’d heard Amanda.

 

The scream came again, clearer this time, before fading back into silence.

 

Then a  piercing shriek went right through him. He started running towards the sound. The screams got louder. He started sprinting, shouting into the void.

 

‘Amanda?’

 

‘Dirk?’

 

‘Amanda!’

 

‘Dirk!’

 

A figure came into view in the distance. They were utterly alone, curled up in a ball on the floor, crying into the nothingness. As he got closer, he recognized the ripped jeans and small figure. He hadn’t seen Amanda in months, but there she was.  _ Fantastic. _

 

She looked up.

 

‘Dirk? Jesus Christ, Dirk! Todd called me and said- you were- are you ok? Where the _ fuck _ are we? Oh my god, are you alright?’

 

‘Yes, I’m fine. How did you get here?’

 

‘I- I don’t know. One minute- Well, let me tell the story from the beginning-’

 

‘Amanda, answer the question.’ Dirk didn’t recognize this urgent tone he was using, but he kind of liked it. ‘How did you get here?’

 

‘I swear, I don’t know.’

 

‘Fine.’ He sighed, ‘What can you remember?’

 

‘I- I was with Vogel, and we were in... Texas? Yeah. Texas.’

 

‘Wait, you were with  _ Vogel _ ? Is  _ he  _ ok?’

 

‘Yeah. At least, he was. Anyway, we were in Texas, and suddenly he dropped to the ground. Like, out of nowhere. And then… and then I felt a weird tingle down the back of my neck. And then I- I must have fallen asleep.’

 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice said ‘Project Modi Waking’.

 

Dirk recognized that voice….

 

‘What the fuck? Dirk, what the fuck is a Project Modi? Dirk?’

 

‘I- I don’t know. If you’ll give me a minute.’

 

It hit him. That scientist. Which meant...

 

‘Look, Amanda, you’re about to wake up. When you do, remember - do whatever they tell you. Don’t fight back, don’t protest, don’t try to stop them. Just do it. I’ll find you. I promise’

 

‘I- what? Dirk, what’s going on?’

 

‘I can’t explain it all now. Just listen to me.’ His vision was fading.

 

‘Dirk?’

 

‘Yes?’

 

‘I’m scared.’

 

‘Don’t worry.’ Dirk smiled. ‘I am too.’

 

His vision went black.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

‘Don’t worry.’ Dirk smiled. ‘I am too.’

 

That wasn’t super reassuring. Amanda’s heart was thumping in her chest. 

 

Suddenly, the blackness faded away and she was affronted by bright white light and a spectacularly ugly face.

 

‘I- what?’

 

‘Project Modi! Welcome!’

 

‘I’m sorry, who?’

 

The woman smiled. Well, ‘smiled’ was a bit generous. It was more like a plastic, over-botoxed grimace. 

 

‘Project Modi. That’s your name, is it not?’

 

‘No, my name’s Amanda. Amanda Brotzman?’

 

‘Quaint. You know, I’ve always wanted to do a study on those projects that renamed themselves  _ after  _ release. I wasn’t allowed though. Human experimentation is such a touchy subject for people. In fact,-’

 

‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. I don’t know what you think is going on, but I’ll leave you to this weird delusion. Goodb-’

 

ZAP. Amanda yelled, partly in surprise, partly pain.

 

‘I’m sorry, you must have forgotten the rules. Repression is so tedious. Don’t interrupt me again.’

 

Amanda bit her tongue. _ Don’t fight back, don’t protest, don’t try to stop them. _

 

The woman continued, ‘My name is Dr Michaels, but I’m assuming you’ll just call me doctor. Do you know why you’re here?’

 

‘Obviously not! Where am I, and who the hell is Project Modi?’

 

‘Oh dear. I’ve got a lot of explaining to do. The corporal’s coming in a minute, so I’ll have to hurry up. Let me summarize.’ Her tone was boring and repetitive, and given the gravity of the subject they were discussing, Amanda felt it was a little inappropriate,’ You were given a gene as a child that gives you vivid hallucinations and visions. It was done with the aim of testing the human mind’s limits, to see if it was an effective torture technique. You were kept under observation from the ages of six to thirteen, but the project was disbanded after results were inconclusive. We gave you a false childhood. It’s too complicated to explain. Think ‘ _ The Matrix _ ’, but better. Your parents were given a large sum of money to keep them quiet.  Recently, the gene seems to have resurfaced. We recalled you to stop anyone getting hurt. Any questions?’

 

‘What? No! You’re insane, lady! I- I didn’t make my entire childhood up! Those memories are real! And- and mom and dad would never do  _ anything _ like that! They love me!’

 

‘Not as much as they love cash, apparently.’ Her tone was impassive.

 

‘Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!.’

 

The doctor growled. She twisted a dial on the machine she’d been resting her arm on, and started speaking.

 

‘Listen to me. YOU-’

 

ZAP.

 

‘ARE.’

 

ZAP.

 

‘NOT.’

 

ZAP.

 

‘REAL!’

 

Amanda screamed. She remembered Dirk’s promise. The pain was unbearable, but she held her tongue as her body was shocked over and over. Finally, it stopped. .

 

‘Any questions?’

 

Amanda remained silent, and tried to stop the tears spilling out of her eyes.

 

‘Good. I think the corporal’s here. If you’ll excuse me.’

 

Amanda didn’t believe a word that witch had said. You couldn’t fake seven years of memories. The holidays, the parties. She hadn’t missed out on that.

 

Had she?

 

She couldn’t think about it now. The doctor was gone.This was her chance to escape. She went to sit up,  and the cuffs dug into her wrists, clearly attached to the bed beneath her.  _ Great _ .  _ Six months of punching people and smashing shit and I don’t get arrested once. One twisted bitch kidnaps me, and suddenly I’m in handcuff _ s.

 

The doctor came back in the room, accompanied by a man in a suit, holding the largest gun she’d ever seen. Accompanying that was an expression of dumb stupid nothing that was almost comical.

 

‘Project...’ He checked the back of his hand. ‘Modi. Hi. I’m Corporal Friedkin, and I’m, like, in charge of this place. It’s called Blackwing? I think.’

 

‘What the fuck is Blackwing?’

 

‘I- uh. Doctor Michaels?’

 

The doctor sighed. ‘Blackwing is this entire facility. Your entire world. It’s a government project setup to expand the human mind and see what we can do. It was recently reopened, but experimentation stops when we reclaim all projects. Then this will become a containment facility for those… psychically gifted individuals who can’t reenter the normal world.’

 

‘Sorry, what? You’re saying I can never leave? I’m a…. functioning member of society!’

 

The doctor snorted. ‘We have your records. What, exactly, have you contributed to society in the past year?’

 

‘I-’ Looking back, she’d done nothing. Todd was the (barely) functioning one. 

 

Damn, she missed Todd.

 

‘Exactly. Anyway, we wanted to get you acquainted with the Corporal before you went to your room. I want you back here tomorrow at the same time. It’s been so long since I had a  _ person _ .’

 

‘You’ve, uh, got to come with me now, I think.’ The corporal interjected, looking to the Doctor for guidance. She nodded.

 

She followed the corporal down a long set of corridors, past a few padded rooms and locked doors. He led her to a small cell at the end of a long row of identical rooms. 

 

‘Here we are!’ The corporal suddenly sounded unusually chipper.

 

Amanda stepped past him. The room had a bed, a desk, a bookshelf, and a lamp. On the bed was a set of clothes that were as grey as the rest.

 

‘You want me to stay here?’

 

‘Uh, yeah.’

 

‘This is like a prison cell! I haven’t done anything!’ Amanda felt herself growing more and more agitated.

 

‘Um, Project Modi-’

 

‘That’s _ NOT  _ my name!’ She yelled. This was more fury than she’d felt since… since Todd’s big announcement.

 

‘Well...light’s out is at ten. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

 

‘No you won’t!’

 

As the corporal left the room, Amanda lovingly extended her middle finger at his back. She turned back to look at the room, then sat on the bed, and sobbed.

 

A while later, she remembered Dirk’s words of wisdom and decided to change into the clothes that were lying on the bed. In semi-darkness (there was one  _ tiny  _ window) she pulled off her jeans and sneakers, struggled to get the tight t-shirt she was wearing over her head, and tossed her jacket across the room. The she lifted up the clothes so they were visible, revealing a grey jumpsuit. Like a prison uniform, but worse. That was possible, apparently.

 

Dirk. Was he here? She hoped not. She wouldn’t wish this on anyone, especially not the sweet dude who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

 

After ten minutes of ruminating, Amanda saw a group of people pass by the window of her door, heading down the corridor. Two broad shouldered men holding guns, escorting a skinnier one back to his room. The man in the middle seemed dazed. He was leaning on one of the stronger men for support, but still couldn’t walk in a straight line. With a horrible jolt, Amanda recognized him.

 

As Dirk staggered towards her, she saw what a bad shape he was in. His eyes were unfocused, staring off into the distance as he was roving all over, and it looked like he was desperately trying not to vomit. 

 

‘What the hell did you  _ do  _ to him?’ Amanda couldn’t help herself. She saw Dirk’s eyes widen in fear as he started frantically shaking his head.

 

‘Experiment gone wrong.’ One of the two said. ‘Why does it matter anyway? You don’t know him, do ya?’.

 

‘I-’ Amanda paused. Dirk’s head began shaking even harder..  _ No _ , he mouthed. 

 

‘Uh- no. I just wanna know if it’ll... happen to me.’

 

The taller of the two men snorted. ‘Probably.’

 

Dirk collapsed.

 

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’ The man tossed Dirk over his shoulder like a ragdoll, then threw him into the room next to Amanda’s.

 

‘Careful!’ She yelled.

 

The men hadn’t heard. They were already making their way back up the corridor.

 

Amanda was by the wall in a flash. She tapped. Just once. As a child, she’d done the same thing with Todd whilst her parents were arguing.

 

One tap was ‘ _ Are you ok?’ _

 

She tapped again, more intensely. There was no reply. They were maybe six inches apart, but there might as well have been an ocean between the pair. Christ, she hoped he was alright.

 

Amanda didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she eventually nodded off against the stone wall.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Dirk was confused.

 

It wasn’t the wild hallucinations he’d been having for the last six hours.

 

It wasn’t his stomach ejecting everything he’d ever eaten every five minutes.

 

And it wasn’t the disturbing realisation that he possibly wasn’t able to see colour.

 

It was the fact that Amanda was on the other side of the concrete wall that divided the two cells.

 

As he kneeled by the toilet (he really was feeling very sick still), his worry grew. His two lives had merged in a tumultuous explosion where there were no winners. He was terrified for her; Blackwing was a horrible place where a lot of very scary and painful things happened, and although they were happening to him, he’d rather it not affect his closest friends.

 

He sighed. There was no use thinking about it now. He’d wait until dinner. If he remembered correctly, the clock in that huge room said it was eleven in the morning when he’d staggered out after being rudely awoken from his conversation with Amanda. He guessed, judging by the tiny bit of sunlight that was coming through the window, that six hours had passed since then, which meant it was about five in the evening now. That was… an hour before dinner. He could wait an hour. 

 

He knew it was no use trying to contact her; attempts to do that with other subjects in the past had proved futile, and were often accompanied by a punishment of some sort - usually a book being taken away. He was down to five now, and wasn’t about to risk any of his favourites being stolen. Rather mockingly, his old dictionary had been replaced with ‘The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes’, but Dirk had devoured the set (even though he solved all the cases  _ way _ before Mr Holmes) and would lie awake at night thinking about how he’d have done it.

 

Anyway, now he’d decided what to do about Amanda, he thought he’d focus on another problem: he was viewing the world in grayscale. It must have had something to do with that awful experiment. He was still feeling ill. Was it just the shock of seeing Amanda? 

 

Anyway, all he knew was that before he’d seen his friend, he was able to see the bright pink lipstick the scientist was wearing, the auburn hair that had grown unruly since he’d been recaptured, the bright green of his favourite book. Now, they were all unidentifiable shades of grey. 

 

Dirk started freaking out. He ran his hands through his hair (it was harder to do after they’d cut it short, but he managed) and felt his breathing grow more laboured.  Colour was so important to him. He’d associated his years at Blackwing (in fact, all years pre-Todd) with a murky grey colour, and now this mental image was a reality. What about his jackets? (Well, jacket. The blue one was covered in blood and the yellow one was MIA). When he’d gotten out of this bloody hellhole for the first time, he’d bought those jackets on impulse. They were so important to him. They were so much of who he was. The colour they brought to his life was priceless; they reminded him to always keep going, to remember that anything was better than the years he’d suffered, and lost, as a child.

 

It was evil, pure evil. In doing this to him, the CIA had once again reminded him of how much of his life was not his. In fact, this was a step too far - he could accept the electroshock. He could look past being treated like a stupid child. He could even forget the years he’d never get back. But this? Taking the biggest part of his identity and destroying it? That was a crime he’d never forgive.

 

He sighed once more. If Dirk of six months ago could see him now… leaning against a concrete toilet, with no friends, no cases, no colours, even. It was a depressing thought.

 

He stood up and stretched. His back wasn’t in great shape after leaning against a toilet for six and a half (he guessed) hours. He decided to read for a bit. There wasn’t really anything good on the shelves apart from his dog-eared copy of ‘Sherlock Holmes’, and he wasn’t about to read that for the twentieth time. Maybe he’d just revisit ‘Physics- A Summary’.

 

Brilliant.

 

After half an hour of struggling to understand light as a concept, an armed guard came to his room. Dirk leapt out of bed.

 

‘Hello! How are you? Is it dinnertime?’

 

Usually the men here weren’t used to any forms of politeness in the subjects. Everyone hated being here; the guards had come to expect violence.

 

‘Uh- yeah. Come on.’

 

Dirk followed the man out of his cell. He made brief eye contact with Amanda, and shook his head.  _ Not yet. _

 

He headed to the canteen-ish place in the centre of the facility. It wasn’t much. Just a few grey benches where the subjects that weren’t in straitjackets could eat dinner. 

 

He grabbed a plate and delighted in the mundane-ness of it all. No fancy machinery. No weird equations. No physics. 

 

Amanda made a beeline for where he was sitting when she finally found the hall. Dirk empathised. This place was a labyrinth of machinery and rules.

 

If he was being honest, she looked awful. Her eyes were widened in fear; her hair was all knotty and she was wearing the frankly  _ terrible  _ grey jumpsuit they all donned. Dirk privately thought he pulled it off best.

 

‘Dude! What the hell is going on? Are you ok? Where are we? Apparently my childhood isn’t real or something? I saw you earlier and you did  _ not _ look good. Seriously,  _ what is going on _ ?’

 

Amanda was frantic. In fairness, he would have been.

 

‘Amanda, calm down. Everything’s going to be ok. I’m.. fine. Are you alright? What- what was that about a fake childhood?’ His voice sounded unrealistically cheerful, even to his ears.

 

‘Dirk-’. Amanda saw the note he’d slipped her.

 

‘EVERYTHING’S FINE. DON’T SAY ANYTHING BAD. LOVE FROM DIRK’

 

‘Oh. I’m fine. It was nothing. Fo- food here’s... Good.’

 

Thank god. She’d got it. He couldn’t talk to her freely for a while. They had to stop monitoring her first.

 

‘So, how have you been?’

 

‘What?’ Amanda was preoccupied, ‘Oh, fine, I guess. I mean, Vogel and I went around punching Nazis for a few months. That was fun.’

 

‘...Right. Why?’

 

‘Nazis suck.’

 

‘I suppose. Any-’ Dirk paused, ‘Any news from Todd?’

 

Amanda stiffened. Dirk realised he’d probably hit a sore spot.

 

‘No. I haven’t spoken to him. Or Farah, actually.’ Amanda remembered the note. ‘Nevermind.’

 

‘Oh. Ok.’

 

They sat in silence. Dirk picked at the table awkwardly. He wanted nothing more than to leave (he couldn’t stand awkwardness or silence), but he wasn’t gonna abandon Amanda. Not in a place like this.

 

It must have been a quarter of an hour before Amanda spoke again. 

 

‘Hypothetically, Dirk, if you wanted to check how much of your life has been an illusion, what would you do?’

 

‘Oh. I don’t… I’m not exactly a scientific expert. I suppose you’d hit your head really hard and hope for the best?’

 

‘I don’t.. I don’t think I’m gonna do that any time soon.’

 

‘I got nothing, then. Sorry.’

 

Amanda laughed. It felt weird. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll find a way.’

 

A bell rung. A robotic voice came over the com:

 

‘ _ Will all subjects please return to their rooms _ .’

 

Dirk paled. 

 

‘You ok?’ Amanda seemed worried. He supposed she’d noticed him begin to tap on the table. Coping mechanism.

 

‘What? Oh yeah. Fine. Bye.’ He rose abruptly from his seat and turned to leave. He felt Amanda’s eyes on him as he met the armed guards at the door. She was watching him.

 

Dirk smiled to himself. It was the first time in months that he’d been happy to be watched. It made him feel safer. Amanda was strong. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to him. 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Days after the ‘Buzzfeed Disappointment’ (They’d decided to give it a name in a feeble attempt to forget the tremendous letdown) Todd lay in bed. He’d been woken up by the bright light streaming through the gap in the curtains. And the sharp pain he’d gotten from sleeping at a funny angle.

 

There was a note on the door. As he rose to read it, he felt his joints crack. He supposed it was due to the recent lack of exercise. Without Dirk, there had been no recent events which involved running from death. He supposed it was nice.

 

The note read (in Farah’s careful handwriting) ‘ _ I’ve gone to the hospital. If it’s before 10AM, GO BACK TO SLEEP. You haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a week. - Farah _ ’

Todd didn’t understand why she continued to visit Estevez. He wasn’t exactly a fan of the man. 

 

_ Then again _ , thought Todd, _ I probably shouldn’t think that about someone on life support _ .

 

He checked his watch. Quarter to eleven. The first good night’s sleep he’d gotten in ages.

 

Todd ambled into the kitchen. He poured himself a mug of water, put it in the microwave, and turned to leave, before pausing. He smiled to himself. Dirk had talked a lot about the proper way to make tea. ‘ _ Honestly Todd, I don’t know how you can handle it. TEA in a MICROWAVE. I’m disgusted _ .’ As they’d sat in the diner on the last morning, Dirk had insisted Farah ‘lend’ (read: give) him some money so he could ‘Show you how it’s done, Todd.’

 

When Farah came back, an hour later, Todd’s eyes were swollen and he was sniffling. Hayfever, he’d insisted.

 

‘Are you sure you’re ok?’

 

‘Yeah, it’s the pollen. I’ve got to remember to shut the damn windows.’

 

‘Ok then. If you’re sure you’re fine, I want you to get dressed then meet me outside.’

 

‘Why?’

 

‘We’re going for a run!’ Farah was unusually chipper. ‘Apparently it releases all kinds of endorphins, and-’

 

‘Farah.’

 

‘Yeah?’

 

‘I haven’t run for six months.’

 

‘I know. You need to get your strength back up.’

 

‘What for?’

 

Farah shrugged, but Todd noticed the note she slid across the table as she told him all about the benefits of exercise and eating well. ‘ _ I think they’ve bugged the flat. Come to the park and we can talk. I’ve got news. _ ’

 

‘Ok, I guess. I could do with some endorphins right now.’

 

‘Brilliant! I’ll see you in ten.’

 

‘K.’

 

‘Oh, and Todd?’

 

‘Yeah?’

 

‘Do me a favour.At least put the top in the wash.’

 

Todd looked at the ground. In a heap in the corner of the room, he could just see the grey fabric peeking out from behind the sofa. He’d found the t-shirt after Farah had sprinted into the diner, yelled for Todd to come outside and look at what she’d found.

 

She discovered him on the bathroom floor five minutes later, cracked iPhone in hand.

 

From then on, they’d scoured the area for 6 hours after Farah had found the marks on the wall. You could envision the panic. She hadn’t even begun to form a conclusion until she found Dirk’s phone on the floor. It was unlocked, still warm from where it had been nestled in his back pocket. The screen had displayed a barely decipherable message ‘ _ apbd msan bUt imm ok keeep l,,ooking  forR me frpm di’.  _ It was tough, but in their hyped up, panicky states they’d managed to get the general gist of it. A cry for help.

 

They’d finally decided to go back to the apartment, when Todd stumbled across something in the road. A grey t-shirt, proudly emblazoned with the phrase ‘Mexican Funeral’.

 

Todd broke down. It was all they had, the only real connection to Dirk Gently. He didn’t know the odds of stumbling across it on the road, but he knew. It was the Universe.

 

From then on, Todd had worn it almost every day. He refused to wash it. ‘ _ This is it, Farah! Are we just gonna forget Dirk? Wash away the last of him? _ ’

 

He thought back to that night, those intolerable first few days, as he met Farah’s pleading eyes.

 

‘I… I don’t-’

 

‘Todd, please. It isn’t healthy. Let it go. You know Dirk wouldn’t want you to act like this.’

 

‘I-’ He hesitated. ‘Fine. I’ll take it to the laundromat when we go on a run.’

 

‘Brilliant. Thanks, Todd.’ Farah paused. ‘Look, I- I know this is hard. But I promise, Todd. We will find him. And Amanda.’ Her eyes became downcast.

 

Todd could have kicked himself. Once again, he’d fucking forgotten Amanda. She was his sister, for God’s sake. He’d forgotten her because he was too busy worrying about Dirk.

 

This cycle of self loathing was almost natural now.

 

Ten minutes later, Todd left the apartment and headed outside to find Farah, coffee in one hand and toast in the other. 

 

‘You ready to go?’

 

‘I guess.’ Todd’s tone confirmed what Farah had been thinking. She was gonna drag him out anyway.

 

‘Awesome! Come on.’

 

The pair set off at a steady jog and continued for a good half hour until they arrived at the park. There, over coffee and toast, Farah had told him what she’d found out.

 

**[Minor TW for mention and discussion of suicide. Summary in bold at the end of the segment]**

 

‘Basically,’ She said, carefully nibbling her breakfast, ‘I got nothing.’

 

‘What?’

 

‘Well, that’s not strictly true. I have some news.’

 

‘Yeah?’

 

‘Estevez is probably gonna wake up today or tomorrow.’

 

‘How- how does that help us?’

 

‘Well,’ Farah had a glimmer in her eye, ‘You know the official story: he was so upset by Zimmerfield’s death that he tried to kill himself.’

 

‘Yeah.’

 

‘There’s no way that’s true. First of all, it’s an illogical target. The chest? There are easier ways to do it.

 

Second of all, I checked the bullets. Estevez’s gun was non military. Glock 22. Those bullets? They came from a Sig 228 or 226. There’s no way he could have gotten access to one. Even I don’t have any.’

 

‘So… how does it help us?’

 

‘Todd, he was shot with a military gun! The government got to him! I’m sure of it!’

 

An old lady feeding the ducks looked over in concern. Todd smiled at her, speaking out of the side of his mouth:

 

‘Farah, chill.’

 

‘Sorry, it’s just- we’ve never been this close before.’

 

‘I guess.’ Todd checked his watch. ‘We’d better get back.’

 

**[Summary: Estevez is alive! But in a coma. But he’s maybe gonna wake up tomorrow! He survived fuckboi Friedkin and was brought to hospital. Official story: he was so upset about Zimmerfield’s death that he attempted suicide but Farah calls bullshit because of bullet wounds and gun types not corresponding. She thinks it was the government covering shit up. She’s right.]**

  
  


From across the park, the old lady watched the pair get up and leave. She smiled to herself. She’d been stationed here for three months, and had listened to hours of mindless chat about who-was-dating-who, or what Cindy from yoga had done that week.

 

Finally, something useful. She tugged off the prosthetics and sent a message to Blackwing’s communications channel. 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Several days later, Farah and Todd sat over another cup of coffee in the hospital waiting rooms.

 

‘When do you think we’ll be able to talk to him?’

 

‘No idea. Farah, what are you gonna do if he tells us nothing?’

 

Farah had been an anxious ball of energy since they’d been told that Estevez had woken up. Such was her excitement at new information that she’d become almost frantic. There were several indicators Todd had learnt to look out for; one was cleaning. Farah liked stuff to be clean. Once he’d gotten home after a late night junk food run and found methodically disassembling and cleaning twenty guns. It was a shock.

 

‘I don’t know. Keep looking.’

 

‘Good.’

 

They sat in silence.

 

Fifteen or so minutes later, a woman in blue scrubs called for a Mr Brontzman.

 

Todd sighed, and he and Farah followed the nurse down the hallway to Estevez’ room. Their eyes locked, and without speaking they knew what the other was thinking; ‘ _ This is it _ .’

 

Estevez was a mess.

 

You’d think that a good night’s sleep was what the guy needed. He’d been through an ordeal and a half, and Todd knew he’d love nothing more than to sleep for six months uninterrupted.

 

Estevez was clear proof that there were better ways to de-stress.

 

His eyes were sunken, heavy lids almost forcing him to go back to sleep. He seemed slightly dazed, like he wasn’t quite awake yet, but he definitely wasn’t asleep.

 

He may have looked tired to the casual observer, but if you were to probe deeper you’d see the frantic tapping, the unnatural blinking and the slight tic. Estevez wasn’t ok. That much was obvious.

 

Farah spoke. God bless Farah Black. If it wasn’t for her, he’d never get anything done.

 

‘Hello, Estevez. How are you?’

 

He was clearly preoccupied. ‘I-I’m. What? What were you saying?’

‘We were asking how you were.’ Farah’s tone was measured; her voice oozed intelligence. 

 

‘We bought flowers.’ She nudged Todd, who jerked and presented Estevez with a bouquet of sunflowers. They drooped and were a little squashed, but they were cheap and Farah had refused to spend any of Lydia’s money. She was saving it for Dirk’s agency.

 

‘Oh. I’m good.’

 

Farah glanced at Todd before continuing, ‘We wanted to ask you a few questions, if that’s-’

 

‘Wait. Close the blinds.’ Estevez interrupted. Todd obliged; he was no less scared of the man than he had been six months ago.

 

‘...As I was saying, would it be okay if we asked you a few questions?’

 

‘Sure. Yeah.’

 

‘Okay, well, first of all: Did you try to kill yourself?’

 

‘What? No! Who told you that?’

 

‘The police department.’

 

‘Bullshit.’

 

‘Alright. How were you shot?’

 

Estevez began to speak, before pausing. 

 

‘Actually… Nah. I don’t wanna answer your questions today.’

 

Farah paused; she chose her words carefully.

 

‘You were fine with it a minute ago. What changed your mind, Estevez?’

 

‘Nothing. I literally woke up a few days ago, and now you’re trying to ask me all these questions? Sorry, I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re trying to do, but I’m not gonna sit here and have insinuations flying around.’

 

Estevez gained some gravity; his old self was showing through. Todd felt like he was the one being interrogated (again).

 

‘A- and. And I didn’t even say the government had  _ anything  _ to do with it? So I dunno why you’re askin’ me about them.’

 

‘We didn’t’

 

Estevez blanched. ‘What? Y- Yeah you did.’

 

‘Uh. No, we didn’t. Why. Should we?’

 

‘Forget I said anything. Get out. Now!’ If Estevez had had a gun, it would have been pointed right at them. To be fair, the anger in his words was enough.

 

Farah turned to leave. ‘Come on Todd. Thank you for your time, Estevez.’

 

They left the building, turning their collars up against the wind. 

 

‘Well that was useless.’

 

‘Todd, what are you talking about? That was brilliant.’ Farah was grinning. It was a rare sight these days. ‘Honestly, Todd, I’ve not been this excited for ages! We found out that the government was involved, and that there was cover up, and-’

 

‘Yeah, but didn’t we already know that?’

 

Farah stopped. ‘For God’s  _ sake _ , Todd! Can’t you just think positive for once? Jesus Christ! It’s like you don’t even  _ want  _ to find Dirk!’

 

It was clear she regretted her words the split second they’d come out of her mouth.

 

‘I didn’t mean- You know I-’

 

‘No, it’s ok. I get it. It’s not like I’ve been doing anything anyway.’ And with that, Todd turned away and left Farah in the street.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

 

**email sent: 7/3/17, 18:34**

**to:** [ **crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com** ](mailto:crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com)

**from:** [ **dr.e.michaels@gov.us.com** ](mailto:dr.e.smith@gov.us.com)

Project Modi seems to be assimilating well. The ‘fake childhood’ ruse seems to be buying into her paranoia and we hope to see full compliance in two weeks tops. We’ll probably move to begin interrogation then.

I hope you’ve been informed on the recovery of Detective Estevez. If you need assistance in kill points whilst shooting, don’t hesitate to ask. 

Also, when are you going to get a government email? I’m not sure I feel entirely comfortable giving out official secrets to a gmail account.

Regards,

Dr E. Michaels

**email sent: 8/3/17, 09:15**

**to:** [ **dr.e.michaels@gov.us.com** ](mailto:dr.e.michaels@gov.us.com)

**from:** [ **crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com** ](mailto:crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com)

great

**email sent: 8/3/17, 13:57**

**to:** [ **crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com** ](mailto:crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com)

**from:** [ **dr.e.michaels@gov.us.com** ](mailto:dr.e.michaels@gov.us.com)

Apparently Agent Parkinson picked up on two known associates of Project Icarus conversing about the recovery of Detective Estevez. What do you advise we do?

Regards, Dr E. Michaels

 

**email sent: 9/3/17, 13:57**

**to:** [ **dr.e.michaels@gov.us.com** ](mailto:dr.e.michaels@gov.us.com)

**from:** [ **crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com** ](mailto:crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com)

i’ll figure it out.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was one of the lesser stories of the day. They’d been eating breakfast in a frosty silence after last night’s tiff when the report flashed across the screen. Police were looking for the murder of a Detective Estevez, most known for his outstanding work in the Lydia Spring case, alongside his late partner, Detective Zimmerfield.

They were stunned.Todd didn’t notice his coffee mug falling over, but the crash it made as it hit the floor seemed to shock them out of their silence.

‘Wait so-’

‘How-’

‘No but what if-’

‘Todd.’

‘Yes?’

‘What the hell is going on?’

Farah picked up her phone from the coffee table. She dialled a number.

‘Hello? Virginia Mason Medical Centre? Yes, I need to know how one of your patients, Detective Estevez died.’

‘Are you immediate family?’

‘Yes, I’m his cousin. I only just saw it on the news. I’m distraught.’ The lies came easily to Farah.

‘Oh. Alright then. Mr Estevez was shot through a window. We don’t know how, but the police are doing everything they can to find the killer. I’m sorry’

‘Jesus. Thank you.’

‘No problem. My condolences’

The woman from the hospital set down the phone with a click.

Todd spoke first ‘They- They shot him.’

‘Bastards wanted to finish what they started, I suppose.’

‘So… what now?’

‘Now we fucking find Dirk and Amanda.’

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dirk was trying to remember what trees looked like when Corporal Freidkin showed up at his door.

He looked rather confused (although that didn’t really divert from the norm). As he watched Freidkin struggle with the lock through the little window showing him the outside world, he tried to remember if he’d done anything wrong in the past few weeks. He didn’t think so. There was that bit with the rat last week, but that really wasn’t his fault, and if he was being totally honest, Dirk thought the doctor looked better without  _ bright pink extensions _ .

There was a familiar click as the locking mechanism was released, and the door opened. Dirk stayed on the bed as he watched the corporal bang his head on the door frame.

‘Project Icarrots.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Oh. Right. I meant Icarus. It’s hard to read the writing on my hand because there’s loads of it and I didn’t have a proper pen so I used a marker.’

Freidkin waved his hand in Dirk’s face to reveal childish handwriting done with a marker so thick that it was barely legible.

‘Right. Well.’ Dirk paused. ‘Wait, you didn’t remember my  _ name _ ?’

‘No- I- I can remember them! Yeah! I just.. I’m really busy and I have loads of stuff to do, so.’

Dirk once again found himself wondering at the pure idiocy of the government.

‘Okay. What exactly do you want me for?’

‘What? Oh. Apparently an experiment went super wrong and you were really sick and stuff so I wanted to make sure you were ok.’

‘Really? You’ve never cared about anything to do with me before.’

‘Yeah, well apparently you have this ‘constitutional rights’ thing now. Because you’re like, over eighteen or something.’

A spark of an idea came to life in Dirk’s brain. Freidkin was a violent idiot, but he could work that to his favour. The man had no brains, no logic, and absolutely no sense of style (He was  _ always  _ wearing black. That might have been the ‘for some reason everything is grey’ thing, though. Friedkin could have been wearing lime green trousers for all Dirk knew)

‘So… What, exactly, do these constitutional rights dictate?’

‘Oh my god, you ask so many questions! I don’t know! Like… lawyers and stuff!’

Dirk felt his heart begin to race.

‘Lawyers? What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know! Like.. I don’t-. Ok what if I give you a copy and then you can read them because I don’t  _ care  _ about it. Like, at  _ all _ .’

Dirk grinned. If he’d asked anyone else, the answer would have been a flat out no. But the Corporal’s unwillingness to learn meant he could get whatever he wanted if he was clever about it.

‘That sounds brilliant. You can probably print them from the web.’

‘What? How do you do that?’

Christ, he was stupid. ‘You… don’t know how to  _ print  _ things.’

‘No! I do! But how do you do it from the internet?’

‘I could show you.’

‘I don’t know. I’m not really supposed to let you out.’

‘It’d just be five minutes. And if anyone found out you couldn’t print from the web they’d probably laugh at you behind your back. The cost/ benefit-’

‘Oh my  _ god _ , you can do it, just  _ stop  _ talking.’

Dirk zipped his lips as the Corporal continued to speak.

‘I’ll be like one minute. I gotta go get handcuffs.’ And with that, he turned and left the cell.

Dirk rolled his eyes. What the bloody hell did they think he was going to do? It’s not like he’d be able to overpower a man who was twice his weight holding a machine gun. And he wasn’t going to try to-

The door was open. Unlocked and open. The outside world was staring him in the face. It would be laughably easy to escape. Freidkin would be gone for at least ten minutes, because for some reason he was incapable of finding his office without a fuss and a map. He’d been memorising the rhythm of guard switches for weeks now, and if he was guessing right (which he usually was) there was a five minute window about to open when no guards were at their stations.

This was the luckiest Dirk had felt in a long time. No, it wasn’t luck. It was the Universe. Once again, it was reminding him:  _ Everything is connected. _

_ Thank you, universe. _

He rose out of bed. His heart was thumping in his chest, so loudly that he was terrified someone would hear it. Tiptoeing towards the door, he took a deep breath and paused. _ Left, right, left, left, left, right, straight ahead and into the reception. _ He’d seen the guards lockers a million times, it would take him two minutes to sneak in and get changed. Maybe grab a gun whilst he was at it. 

Dirk hated guns, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

He poked his head out the door. Silence. He grinned. This was it. A nine month temporary lapse into hell to emerge again like a phoenix. One wearing a yellow jacket. With a british accent. 

He sneaked down the corridor, every step sounding (and feeling) like a thunder clap. He could barely keep quiet, he was so bloody excited. In 20 minutes, tops, he’d be out of here forever.

The silence was broken by a persistent tapping sound. He hadn’t noticed it before, but as his head cleared, it became annoyingly obvious. He turned to the source of the noise.

_ Amanda! _

He’d forgotten! How could he?

Dirk felt a momentary pang of guilt. He’d been so wrapped up by the idea of escape that he’d forgotten his friend! He turned around to see Amanda mouthing something. He wasn’t great with lip reading, but it was safe to say he got the gist of it.  _ ‘Dude! Where are you going?’  _

He began to walk back to her door when he heard heavy footsteps. The corporal was returning. Miraculously, it seemed, he’d found his own office without too much hassle. The footsteps were accompanied by the occasional jangling of handcuffs, which Dirk knew from experience would be slapped on all the more tighter if he was found out of his room.

_ Brilliant _ , he thought,  _ the corporal decides to easily complete a basic task just as I get a whiff of freedom. _

Dirk had no choice. There was nowhere to hide, and he’d never reach the end of the corridor in time.He walked back to his room with the stance of someone taking their last steps toward the electric chair.

He managed to sit on the end of his bed just as the corporal turned a corner and walked down the corridor into his room.

Dirk smiled placidly. He could feel his nails digging into his clenched fists as he tried desperately not to cry (something he found himself doing a lot more often lately).

Dirk consoled himself with the fact that he may have been trapped in a government facility where everything was suddenly grey, but at least he wasn’t as stupid as the man in front of him who’d somehow managed to handcuff himself to his belt.

‘Do- Do you want a hand?’

‘No! I’m fine! I meant to do this!’ He gestured wildly with his free hand.

‘Alright. Are we going?’

‘What? Oh yeah. Just- uh. Put your hands in your pockets.’

‘I don’t have any pocket.’

‘What? Why don’t you have  _ pockets _ ?’

‘Ask the uniform designer. Really I think it was a bad move, especially considering-’

‘Ok, I changed my mind!’ The corporal was visibly upset, ‘I don’t need your help! I’ll just.. google it. Yeah.’

At this point Dirk was happy to get away from the angry armed man in self imposed handcuffs.

‘Good call. I don’t really know anything about computers anyway, to be honest.’

Freidkin was too distressed to ask why Dirk had contradicted something he’d said minutes before.

‘Ok. Bye.’

He left, locking the door this time. There was a beep as the lock clicked back into place.

Dirk got up and stared out of the tiny window on the other side of his room. You couldn’t really see anything, but there was a tiny slip of sky and the glimpse of a concrete ground feet below.

After ten minutes of silence, Dirk realised something terrible.

‘I am  _ never  _ getting out of here’

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amanda was really scared. She’d been alone for three months. It was enough time, in her mind, to convince herself that her entire childhood had been a ruse. She was sitting on her bed, having a mental breakdown for probably the tenth time in a week when an armed guard came to her door. Amanda had been dreading it.

Every day, for the past two weeks, she’d been brought to a room and quizzed on everything to do with the Rowdy Three. Most of the time she didn’t have the answers, which meant a painful electric shock.

Gone were the days of fighting back and snide remarks. Amanda was tired.

She followed the guard out of her room to the familiar interrogation room she’d begun to call her second home. She was left alone for a minute before Dr Michaels entered, holding a thick file and a coffee.

‘Now, Modi. Let’s begin, shall we?’

Amanda was hooked up to machine. It had one simple use of delivering an electric shock whenever she got a question wrong. It could also induce attacks, which she’d found were a lot harder to deal with without her brother, or Vogle.

The doctor flipped a picture round. It was a photo of Farah. Amanda paled. Damn. She missed Farah. In fact, she really missed Farah.

Amanda had always known she was bi. That didn’t phase her. The problem was, she’d never actually loved anyone before. But Farah? Those cheekbones, that hair, her badass demeanor, the way she was just a little neurotic… Amanda had more than a little crush. And she wanted to keep Farah safe. Which meant….

‘Do you know this woman?’

Amanda didn’t know what to say. She made up her kind pretty quickly though; absolutely nothing.

She remained silent even as the electric shocks began. And they didn’t stop. Five minutes later, Amanda was so dazed she felt she’d collapse if she tried to stand.

‘Disappointing. I’ll be back.’

The doctor left the room, coffee in hand. 

_ She’d forgotten the file. _

Other than thinking about Farah, Amanda had also been thinking about her childhood. No one would tell her anything, and Amanda had gone near insane racking her brain, doubting her memories.

But here it was. All the evidence and information she needed. Quick as a flash, Amanda grabbed the file and opened the first page.

_ ‘PROJECT MODI: An experiment to see how emotional manipulation buying into existing paranoia will affect interrogation results. Subject was told her childhood was a ruse, and seems to believe this very quickly. Will update.’  _

_ The bitch was lying! _

Amanda sat back in her chair and put the file back in place. She grinned. She knew something the doctor didn’t. She knew her parents loved her. She knew Todd would never have agreed to something like that. Her resolve strengthened, she smiled complicity as the doctor re-entered the room.

‘Project Modi. Let’s continue. And do try to tell the truth this time.’

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘For the past two months I’ve been masquerading as an engineer to infiltrate Blackwing. You know that. I haven’t gotten much, but I managed to sneak into an office and print this off.’

‘Yeah. What is it?’

‘It’s a blueprint of the entire Blackwing facility. There’s everything in here.’

‘Yeah, but there’s no labels. Just symbols. Look. That one’s just... a crossed out diamond. What the hell does that mean?’

‘No idea. We’ll deal with that when we come to it.’

‘Don’t you think that’s kinda.. Reckless?’

‘Everything we’re doing is reckless, Todd. Anyway, we-’

Corporal Freidkin took the headphones off.

‘What the hell is that?’

‘That’s the two known associates of Icarus. Somehow they’ve got into the facility and gotten blueprints. Agent Parkinson bugged their apartment. I would suggest-’

‘Up Icarus’ security.’

‘Sorry, Sir?’

‘Just up his security. We have like, huge guns and stuff. They’ll never get past that, right?’

‘Well, one of the associates is Farah Black. Her file is-’

‘Oh my god, I don’t care about  _ files _ ! I’m in charge! I just wanna… shoot guns! No one told me I had to do all of this…  _ management _ stuff! Just do what I say! Up his security, ok?’

‘Course, sir.’

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Farah, why are we in the death maze again? I never thought I’d have to come back here.’

‘Because I’m pretty sure they’ve bugged our apartment. Just put these on.’

Farah was in combat gear. All black. She looked good.

‘Anyway, sorry about that whole script thing. I had to feed them false information. The  _ real  _ plan is-’

‘What if they haven’t bugged our apartment?’

‘What?’

‘Well, if they haven’t bugged our apartment, what’s the point in all this deception stuff?’

‘There wouldn’t be a point. But it’s better to be safe than sorry. Anyway, the real-’

‘Seems a bit pointless to me.’

‘Oh my god, Todd! You are an  _ asshole  _ before 7.’

‘I’m always an asshole, Farah. I let my best friend get kidnapped by the government and I lost my sister.’

‘Well, if you’d  _ shut up _ , maybe we’d be able to find them.’

Farah was having absolutely  _ none  _ of that today.

‘Sorry. Keep going.’

‘We need to get arrested.’

‘What?’

‘The CIA knows that we know Dirk. They can’t technically bring us in yet, but if we get arrested they’ll have an excuse to take us to Blackwing.’

‘How do you know they won’t just kill us?’

‘I don’t, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

Farah had lain awake every night for the last nine months trying to figure out a plan. Until the death of Estevez, she’d had nothing. It was almost as if his shooting had shocked her into overdrive. Suddenly, in one night, she’d become overwhelmed with ideas. It had taken her a few more days of planning when she realised; there was no way to beat them using brute force or secrecy. It was a multimillion dollar operation. She was going to have to walk into the dragon’s mouth.

‘So… how do we get arrested?’

'Well- that's where you come in'

'What?'

'I need you to punch me in the face'

' _ What?' _

'I should... Probably back that up.'

'Please.'

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Farah and Todd locked eyes across the mall, Todd holding a vodka bottle (filled with water) and Farah hiding a Draco-47 in her bag. She'd acquired it a few years ago, after Patrick Spring had involved her in some shady business which included the likes of the Irish Mafia (whom, despite what anyone said, she held a healthy amount of respect for).

The issue was that it was illegal in several countries, the US being one of them. This hadn't been too much a problem for Farah before, but today she was hoping the security guards were good enough to realise that she had an illegal gun, but lazy enough to refer her to the police. 

She winked at Todd, who'd been stationed outside the Build A Bear for the last hour. He got the message. Taking a swig of his vodka/ water bottle, he lumbered across the food court towards Farah, making as much mess and noise as possible. He first drew the attention of a gaggle of teens who, as Farah had predicted, ran to the security guard and pointed out the drunk (ish) man making his way towards the woman by the Forever 21.

Todd whispered a hurried 'sorry!', and promptly punched Farah in the face. As they'd rehearsed several times, Farah elbowed her gun out of her open bag, making sure it clattered to the ground.

As the security guard edged his way through food court tables, past soccer moms, loitering teens and those universal metal chairs, Farah elbowed Todd in the stomach. Hard.

Doubled over (after a very real groan), Todd whispered,  _ 'I thought we were supposed to be pretending!' _ through gritted teeth.

_ 'I had to make it realistic. You're a terrible actor,'  _ Farah shot back.

By now the security guard had made his way over to them. He'd been yelling at them as he'd made his way over, but he eventually reached them, and placing a hand on Farah's shoulder, he spoke.

'What the hell? Sir, Ma'am, I'm gonna have to ask you to follow me outside.'

There was a police car waiting outside. Todd and Farah were (rather forcefully) pushed into the back, and as they smiled at each other, the policeman up front spoke into his radio.

'Yeah, I got two adults on charges of public drunkenness, carrying an illegal weapon and public fighting.

A voice came back over the radio.

'Uh. Ok. You gotta... you gotta go somewhere else. Not the police station.'

'Excuse me, sir?'

'This is... Um. This is Corporal Freidkin, CIA. You need to bring the two suspects you got in your back seat to somewhere else.'

'Sir, I don't-'

'Officer, you will do what I say or... Or I'll fire you!'

'... Sorry, Sir. Where do you want me to bring them?'

'Uh- One sec. I forgot to write it down.'

There was a muffled conversation. Farah turned to Todd, and grinned. She mouthed. _ 'This is it!' _

'Okay. You gotta go to-'

\----------------------------------------------------

**email sent: 6/9/17, 08:57**

**from:** **dr.e.micheals@gov.us.com**

**to:** **crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com**

I'm sure you're aware that the two associates of Icarus were brought in last night. They've been in separate isolation rooms for almost twenty four hours now. I would suggest intense interrogation. I've left a file on your desk.

Regards,

Dr E. Michaels

 

**email sent: 6/9/17, 12:34**

**from:** **crpl.h.freidkin@gmail.com**

**to:** **dr.e.micheals@gov.us.com**

 

sounds good

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Todd been in the room for what felt like  _ years _ .

He didn’t know where Farah was, he had nothing to do, and he was 99% sure he was in government custody.

In short, he was freaking out.

He was trying to decide whether or not an escape out of the tiny window would be possible, granted that he had a crowbar and a  _ huge  _ tub of Vaseline, when an armed guard slipped through the door and into the room.

‘If you’ll follow me.’

Todd had no choice. He followed the guard out into a wide hallway, with similar rooms lining the walls.

He stopped. The guard was nudging him in the back with his gun, but Todd didn’t know. Or care.

Because coming down the hallway was Dirk Gently. He looked awful. Skinny, tired, his head held down. He looked as if he was trying desperately to not bring any more attention to himself than he already had. His auburn hair had but cut a lot shorter, and it had lost it’s… floof. Dirk was not ok, that much was obvious.

Todd couldn’t help himself.

‘DIRK!’

‘Todd?’ Dirk’s eyes widened; they filled with joy as he grinned, wider than Todd had ever seen before.

‘TODD!’ Dirk was running, running towards his best friend in the whole world. It was clear. In his mind, there were no guards. No rules, or alarms, or guns. Just him and Todd. Gently and Brotzman. There were tears streaming down his face, and Todd wondered how he hadn’t already tripped over; he guessed Dirk’s vision was more than blurred.

For one moment, there could have been no one else in the hallway. The country. The  _ planet _ .

Had you been standing next to Todd, you’d have heard him whisper, ‘ _ Thank you, Universe. _ ’

Of course, this reunion could properly happen, the real world and cold, harsh reality intervened.

Before they’d had a chance to embrace, before they were able to hold each other as if they couldn’t (and wouldn’t) ever let go, and before Todd was able to say everything he’d needed to in the last nine months, the security guard in charge of Dirk grabbed him round the midriff and started dragging him away.

‘TODD!’ Dirk was screaming now; not out of delight, but out of terror, and sorrow, and just a hint of anger.

Todd could feel the guard just behind him begin to grab him in a similar fashion, and for a moment the world seemed to move in slow motion.

Todd screamed, ‘DIRK! DIRK, I SWEAR: I’LL GET YOU OUT OF THIS! FARAH AND I, WE’RE- WE’RE GONNA SAVE YOU!’ Tears streamed down both of their faces and they were dragged their separate ways, all the while screaming at each other, at the guards, at anyone who’d listen.

‘TODD! AMANDA’S HERE TOO! YOU’VE GOT TO HELP US, PLEASE!’ He was shrieking. The desperation was paramount.

Todd nodded and made promises he couldn’t keep. He was praying to ten different deities, to the universe, to  _ anyone _ : ‘ _ Help me save him _ .’

He was dragged round the corner just in time to see Dirk thrown like a ragdoll into a room at the end of the corridor. Just in time to hear the cry of pain, and fear, and sorrow. And Todd cried. 

_ Fuck you, Universe. _

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dirk’s eyes fluttered open. He groaned. His head  _ really  _ hurt.

He got up from the floor and staggered into the bathroom. He felt weird. Almost as if…

Oh my god, Todd!

Dirk could have slapped himself. Todd was in Blackwing. How? Why? And he’d said- he’d said that Farah was here too! They were going to save him. And Amanda! She was just next door! They’d been reunited. All four of them. 

And Dirk was really scared. Because he was used to this place. It had been his world for almost seven and a half years, and then another nine months. He could handle it.

But Amanda had been here for nine months. And they were lying to her, manipulating her, torturing her.

Dirk knew that Amanda hadn’t been here as a child. There was an unusual bond he felt with anyone who’d been kept at Blackwing. He’d felt it with that…. Dirt muppet who’d tried to kill him (twice). He  _ definitely  _ felt it with the Rowdy Three. Once, he’d even passed someone on the street wearing a big trenchcoat, with a hat pulled far down their face, and he’d felt it then.

But Amanda? Nothing. He had his guesses as to why they were lying to her. Her pararubilitis had probably made her  _ way  _ more paranoid than usual, so it would be easy to manipulate her.

But why were they doing it in the first place? Dirk thought that they were only bringing old projects back, but new ones? That was terrifying. It meant that he was being lied to (which wasn’t anything new, but still). It meant that he’d never,  _ ever  _ get out of here.

He turned on the tap and splashed some water in his face. Minor system reboot. It helped. He took a deep breath and stared into the mirror.

There was an angry red mark on his forehead, a bruise that started above his right eye but extended upwards into his hair. He supposed he’d hit his head on the metal bedframe coming in. Or maybe just the ground. Whatever he’d done, it hurt.

The mark was very red. Almost too red. It was out of place. He didn’t know why, but there was something wrong about-

Dirk’s eyes widened. He slapped himself.  _ Ow _ . The mark was red! Instead of grey! It was red! 

Everything else was still grey though. Sort of. It was as if the world was one of those ‘colour with water’ books they give to children, and the child had splashed droplets of water in specific places.

The bruise on his head was red. His face was grey.

His ‘Sherlock Holmes’ book was green. The shelf it sat on was grey.

He looked out of the tiny window set in his door. Everything was grey. That wasn’t any different to usual, though. He scanned the hallway for just a bit of colour when he saw it. At the very other end of the corridor. A set of car keys. The tiny keyring on them almost  _ glowed  _ yellow. It was a hint of vibrancy. Just a little bit of hope.

Dirk started dancing around his room. It had been a questionable day, but he was still thrilled. He decided to make a list. Dirk liked lists. They helped him to rationalise.

 

_ Good: _

_ \- Saw Todd _

_ \- Farah’s here _

_ \- They’re going to save us! _

_ \- Few colours came back. _

 

_ Bad: _

_ \- Sore head _

_ \- Something bad’s going to happen, probably. _

 

As Dirk made the mental lists and adjusted his mood accordingly, he made his way back to his bed. He lay down (his head really did hurt; he wanted to forget about it for a while) and as he drifted off to sleep, he stared at the green book on his shelf. It had been a good day. Ish.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whilst this exchange had been happening, Farah had been locked in an interrogation room.

She knew it was an interrogation room the moment she’d woken up. The first clue was the two way mirror. She knew from experience (and late night googling) that if you put a finger up to a real mirror, a slight gap would be evident. If you were being watched, however, there wouldn’t be any gap whatsoever.

So Farah knew she was being observed. 

She’d spent the last few hours staring at her reflection, and (hopefully) at the soldiers/ detectives/ idiots on the other side. She’d also been formulating a plan of escape.

She was just perfecting it when a man hit his head on the doorframe coming in. Cursing loudly, he picked up the heavy file he’d dropped. She caught a glimpse of her face on the front.

‘I keep telling them to make the doors bigger, but no one  _ listens  _ to me.’

Farah was genuinely confused as to whether this was an interrogation technique or if the man was just an idiot.

He motioned to the table in the middle of the room. Farah sat.

‘So… Miss Black-’

‘Where am I? Where’s Todd? Oh what grounds are you keeping us here? We were arrested for minor crimes. This is unlawful. I have a right to know what’s going on. I want a lawyer. And my phone call.’

‘I- Uh. One second.’ The Colonel held up a finger and hurried out of the room. Farah grinned. She had a knack for unnerving people, especially if they didn’t know what they were doing. She slipped over to the wall space next to the door, and waited.

Freidkin re-entered the room a few minutes later. He stopped. There was (obviously) no sign of Farah. She was standing right behind him, but as he turned around, she struck.

Farah had been trained in seventeen different forms of combat. Before Patrick Spring died, she would hit the gym almost every morning and practice some form of weaponless fighting. She knew eight different ways to disable a man using just her feet, and with free hands (like she had now), there were over fifty possible actions she could take to escape.

She went with good old fashioned fisticuffs. She punched the Colonel in the nose.

As he doubled over, she ran around to behind him, kicked in his knee from the back and watched him fall to the ground. She reached into his back pocket where there was (predictably) a gun. It was small, but powerful. Farah owned six.

An armed guard ran into the room. He cocked his gun, but Farah was ready. She turned the pistol on the Colonel.

‘You’ll let me go, or I’ll shoot him.’

The guard snorted, ‘I’d like to see you try.’

So Farah did. Not in the head. In the shoulder. Painful enough to disable him for a while, but no fatal. 

‘Ow!’ The Colonel yelled. Farah hit him with the back of his gun and he slumped down on the floor, dead to the world.

‘Listen, lady-’ The guard’s hands were shaking. He looked young. Probably only been here a few weeks.

‘I’m going to leave now. You are going to let me. Understand?’ She emphasised every word.

‘Uh-’ He was frozen.

Farah pushed past him and into a dark room. There were computer monitors on the wall showing all manner of different rooms and happenings. She turned back to the room she’d been in. She could still see the dumbfounded guard. He’d come to his senses soon. Farah reckoned he had about five minutes before he realised he had a job to do. She turned to leave when something on one of the monitors caught her eye.

_ Amanda. _

Amanda was locked in a room. Amanda was sitting on a bed. Amanda was here.

The security guard behind her started.

‘Hey!’

Farah (with some difficulty) turned away from the monitors and ran from the room. The guard was in hot pursuit. She reached a fork, and without any hesitation, turned left. It was a trick of hers. If she was being pursued and there were no other factors in play (like a machine gun on her left) she’d always take a left turn. That way she didn’t waste precious seconds deliberating.

The security guard was slow, but catching up. As she turned the corner, she picked up the pace. If she could get to another fork in the hall, she had a 50/50 chance of her pursuer going the other way. 

At the end of the corridor, she saw a second fork. She whispered a quick thank you to whoever was listening, and sprinted left. There was a cupboard halfway along the wall. The temptation to hide for a minute and catch her breath was hard to ignore, but she knew that if they found her, she’d be trapped; she kept running. 

The security guard turned the other way. Good. That had bought her a bit of time. She didn’t stop, though. She didn’t have that much time. She kept running as an alarm rang through the compound. Great. More attention. She didn’t know what she expected, but it would have helped if there hadn’t been an alarm blaring. She had to stop. Farah was brilliant, but a terrible multitasker. She was planning her next move when a lone guard walked down the hallway. Like lightning, Farah had him by the neck, cutting off his oxygen til he fell to the ground. Not dead. Just asleep.

Farah had mastered the quick change. As a child, she’d hated mornings, so she’d taught herself to get ready in under five minutes. It had turned out to be a very useful skill.

Two minutes later, she was wearing the black uniform worn by all the guards at Blackwing. She had two guns now; a pistol in her back pocket and a Sig in her hands. And she was pissed.

There were a million things she could have done, but she had one thing in mind. Amanda. Room 43. She didn’t know how large this place was, or how long it would take to find her, but Farah swore that she wasn’t going to do  _ anything  _ until she had Amanda safe.

She kept going down the corridor, changing her stance ever so slightly to reflect that of an armed guard. The alarm was still blaring when she heard someone yelling at her from the other end of the corridor. She froze, squeezing the trigger-

‘What are you doing? Soldier, you’re needed at X15!’

Farah paused. ‘Of course. Sorry.’

She followed the muscled soldier through the labyrinth of corridors, coming to a halt as he stopped outside a door at the very end of an extensive hallway.

‘I don’t exactly know what happened, but Rigby said that he might be aggressive, so careful. You know the weird shit these people can do.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The guard scrutinised Farah. ‘Cool it with the ‘Sir’ stuff, Soldier. I’ve got to go deal with whatever’s going on. They say it’s two escaped associates, but I don’t know.’

‘Sounds bad. Good luck.’

He nodded at Farah and headed back up the corridor.

‘Farah looked left and right, and then into the room behind her.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dirk was woken up by the alarms. 

It was all rather exciting really; nothing remotely action- related in had happened in the last nine months, and all of a sudden there were alarms, and soldiers racing past. It was all very intense.

But quite annoying after half an hour.

For some reason, they’d upped his security. He could barely even see past the armed guards into the hallway outside. He supposed it had something to do with Todd and Farah, but he didn’t understand why they didn’t just lock him in his room and leave him alone. At least then he’d be able to read all the time, instead of being dragged out every now and then for pointless experiments.

He watched as the guard outside talked into his walkie- talkie. Boring.

He looked out of his window. Grey concrete, grey sky. Boring.

He picked up _ Physics: A Summary _ . Very boring.

Two guards came to his door. Boring.

One of the guards was Farah. Not boring.

He watched in astonishment as Farah conversed with the other guard, and grinned as he left. He was still grinning as Farah turned around to face him. 

Dirk watched Farah's eyes widen to the size of saucers. She jabbed at the glass.

' _ Dirk?' _ She mouthed.

'Farah!' Dirk was yelling; he was pretty sure his room was soundproof.

She grinned, and taking a step back she scanned the door for a lock. Dirk ran up to the glass.

'You've got to have a card!' He yelled.

' _ What?' _

'A CARD!' He drew a rectangle in the air.

She nodded. Patting herself down, she searches for a card in the uniform she was wearing. She looked up and shook her head. No luck.

He was trying to figure out a plan when Farah smashed the lock with her gun.

Elegant solution.

She burst into his room, and before he could say anything, enveloped him in a tight hug. Considering it was the first human contact he'd had in months, Dirk delighted in prolonging it for as long as possible.

She pulled away, her brown eyes twinkling.  _ Brown?  _ Dirk filed it away for later. More colours.

'Dirk!'

'Farah!'

'We've- Oh my god, Dirk, we've been looking for you for almost a year now!'

'I've been waiting!'

'And- and there was a thing with a Buzzfeed article, and Estevez, and-'

'Oh!' Dirk shushed her, 'Amanda's next door!'

Farah blanched, 'A- Amanda's here?'

'Yes. She's been here for a while now. Six months? We've barely seen each other, but she’s fine. I think.’

Well, we’ve- we’ve got to go get her!’

‘Of course. One thing first- they’ll recognise me from a mile off.’ He motioned to his jumpsuit.

‘Right. Wait. I’ve got an idea.’ She reached into her back pocket and handed him a pistol.

‘Hide this in your shoe.’

‘- Okay.’

‘Now we’re gonna have to pretend we hate each other.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Listen. We can’t disguise you, so I’m gonna sneak you out in broad daylight. Understand?’

Something in Dirk’s brain clicked. ‘Oh! I get it. One tiny problem, though.’

Farah sighed. She hated problems. ‘Yes?’

‘I’m not leaving until everyone’s free.’

_ ‘Everyone? _ ’

‘Everyone. If I break out, it’ll only make things worse for the others. There’s a ‘release all’ button somewhere. I’ve seen it.’

‘Fine.’

Dirk suddenly grinned.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. It’s just- I missed you, Farah. Strike team, back together! Now let’s go and get Amanda.’

It was Farah’s turn to grin. She hadn’t let on to anyone how much she’d missed Amanda, but.. She really had. More than anything, she’d missed Amanda. More than Todd’s smile, more than Dirk.

She ran out of the room and stopped at Amanda’s door. She was lying on her bed asleep. In the same way that she’d done with Dirk, Farah smashed the electronic lock in. Amanda started awake. She jumped off the bed.

‘ _ Farah? _ Oh my god!’

Farah was frozen. Dirk nudged her from behind, whispering, ‘This is when you hug her, Farah.’

Amanda beat her to it. Gripping Farah in a tight hug, she whispered,  _ ‘I knew you’d come get me.’ _

They kept hugging. Until it turned into kissing. Gleeful,  _ oh my god I missed you and I love you and _ \- kissing.

And they didn’t stop. Until Dirk coughed.

‘Believe me, I am  _ thrilled  _ that this is happening, but can I remind you that we’re supposed to be breaking out of here? We need to find Todd, and we need to get Vogle and the others out, and-’

Farah interrupted him, ‘Dirk, Amanda. I need you to listen to me. Do everything I say. Put your hands behind your heads and follow me.’

Amanda and Dirk obliged, sharing a momentary ‘ _ what is going on? _ ’ look, before turning to see Corporal Freidkin running down the hall. He had an insane look in his eyes. Terrifyingly insane. He stopped. 

‘WHAT IS GOING ON?’

Farah nudged Dirk and Amanda. They got the message, heading out of Amanda’s room for the last time.

‘Officer, what- I- What are you doing? Aren’t you- Oh my god, can someone tell me what’s happening.’

‘You hit your head, sir. One of the associates escaped, Farah Black? She’s a known associate of both Icarus and Modi, so I was told to take them to the max security department. Just in case.’

Amanda and Dirk did their best to look innocent.

‘Oh yeah! No, I- I’m in charge, and I didn’t tell you to do that!’

‘I’m sorry sir, but my commanding officer told me to do it. You can take it up with him. I think his name was Officer Rigby? Besides, what harm will solitary do?’

‘I- Fine. But I- I want to come with you. Just to make sure.’

‘Of course, sir.’

Dirk was thrilled. Farah was an  _ excellent  _ actor. That would come in very handy later on, once they’d got the agency up and running. It was a matter of minutes til they were out of here.

The Colonel did mess the plan up a little, though. As Farah and Freidkin led them around the corner, Dirk stole one last look at his room. Something told him he wouldn’t be seeing it again.

Farah was following the Colonel, now, as he led them down flights of stairs. Dirk had a vague memory of being sent here before, as a child. It had been his birthday, and for some reason he’d been particularly agitated.

Dirk tried to stop himself from slipping into a depression now. That would have been  _ more  _ than unuseful. 

As they reached the very bottom of the facility, Dirk noticed a clear lack of guards. Now he thought about it, he’d barely seen any. He supposed it was Farah’s escape.

They stopped outside a door. Dirk paled. He definitely remembered now. One week holed up by himself in what was essentially a metal box. He was ten at the time.

‘Colonel, I think I’ve forgotten my card. Could you-’

Farah stopped, probably because Freidkin was pointing a gun at her head.

‘You- you didn’t think I knew who you were? I’m smart! I’m in charge! You hit me, like,  _ really  _ hard. And you took my backup gun. But I had one in my suit the entire time! Yeah! I thought of that! So- so now, you’re gonna drop your gun and you’re gonna get out of here, and I’m gonna deal with Icarus and Modi!’

Farah had no choice. Dirk watched in terror as Farah lowered her gun. There was no way he’d reach his in time. The game was up.

That was, until four psychic vampires trailing ripped straitjackets sprinted down the stairs wielding baseball bats.

The Rowdy Three surrounded Freidkin, who squeaked and backed up against the wall. Without a moment’s hesitation, Martin smacked him on the head and shoved him through the door that had been opened for Dirk and Amanda.

‘Someone will come get him in a couple weeks.’

‘Amanda!’ Vogle was thrilled as usual. He looked terrible. Skinnier than usual and worryingly light, he hugged Amanda, glaring at the other three until they (quite reluctantly, Dirk thought) joined in.

Martin turned to Dirk. Dirk paled. That was never a good sign.

‘You kept her safe. Thanks. We got this for you.’ Martin tossed Dirk his yellow jacket. Yellow! He’d seen it on Todd’s keys, but in such huge volumes… Dirk could barely contain himself. He slipped it on. It was soft, and warm and- well, everything he’d missed.

‘Come on, boys.’ Martin turned to leave, before pausing at looking at Amanda. ‘You coming?’ 

Amanda turned to Farah, looking down at their now interlaced fingers. ‘I think- I think I’m gonna stay here. You’ve got to come get me soon though. I want to be on your first ‘smashing shit up’ adventure, okay?’

‘Always.’ And with that. Martin sprinted back up the stairs, the other three in tow.

‘Your friends are.. They seem nice.’

‘They are. Come on. Let’s find my asshole brother. I’m guessing he tagged along.’

They ran through the halls together, Farah and Amanda holding hands, Dirk running with them. They weren’t safe yet, but he felt more at home. He had his yellow jacket on, his friends were accompanying him as they ran from a terrifying fate.. It felt right.

They passed hallway after hallway, before suddenly stopping as Dirk yelled, ‘Oh!’

‘What? Are you ok?’

‘Yes, I’m fine! We need to press the button! We need to let everyone out!’

‘Okay, where is it?’ Farah asked.

‘Here! I think. Behind this door. One second.’ Dirk pushed the door open to reveal a button splattered with blood. It had already been pressed.

‘Looks like someone beat us to it! Dirk, come on!’

They turned the corner and kept running. There were more people now, some wielding weapons and wearing all black, others in grey jumpsuits fighting tooth and nail with what they had. It was an awesome scene. It seemed that even though the guards were shooting relentlessly, no one could get hurt.  _ Thank you, Universe _ .

They kept running, praying that the guards were too preoccupied with the other subjects to notice them. 

Suddenly, Dirk felt an incredible force. Like a magnet. He took the lead.

‘Follow me!’

Amanda and Farah obliged, following Dirk as they turned left and right and left again, all the while hearing the immense battle going on around them.

He turned a final corner, and saw… he wasn’t sure. He knew one thing. It wasn’t Todd.

It was a dog and a man and a woman in a yellow taxi, laughing maniacally and blasting what sounded like the Backstreet Boys. They drove past Dirk, Amanda and Farah, and taking a right turn, you could clearly hear the skidding of wheels on tarmac. Which meant they were almost out. They just had to find Todd.

Luckily, he was standing right in front of them.

There was no exchange of words needed. No hellos, no names. Just the two of them running towards each other, unobstructed by guards and guns.

And they kissed. And they didn’t stop. It was forever condensed into a minute, a second a millisecond. It didn’t matter.

Todd eventually pulled away, and you could see the tears welling in his blue eyes, you could see his dishevelled brown hair and his freckles that Dirk had never noticed before, but this close they were obvious. 

So they kissed again. And turning back to Amanda and Farah, the four grinned at each other. Two halves of a whole. 

The four of them sprinted out of the facility together, not bothering to look back, not bothering to plan ahead, but riding the wave of love, of joy, of friendship that knew no bounds.

Dirk Gently had been running for sixteen years, and as the four sprinted away from blackwing, he realised he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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